


Absolution

by TT_Angst_Queen



Series: NCIS One-Shots [33]
Category: NCIS, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: For Teen Wolf, Gen, Gi means Government issued, Hurt/Comfort, No need to know NCIS, No need to see Teen Wolf either now that I think about it, Oops, Pre-Canon, References to Depression, Survivor Guilt, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 12:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14213511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TT_Angst_Queen/pseuds/TT_Angst_Queen
Summary: In the middle of a storm, Jethro Gibbs gets a knock on his door from a young man that looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and that world is filled with guilt.





	Absolution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shnuffeluv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/gifts).



 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Gibbs snorted as the weather announcer on his television warned the public of high winds and rain storms all along the DC and surrounding cities. It was completely unnecessary considering he had eyes and he could just look out the window at the shitty weather to know that it was stormy as hell outside. Reading his copy of ‘White Fang’ and sipping on a coffee, he was completely unconcerned with the turbulent weather. The house had been through worse storms and the power had stayed on, not that it really mattered to him if he had power or not, he wasn’t someone that relied on electricity to get by, unlike 98% of the USA.

 

He was just finishing the chapter where White Fang was saved by the nice man from the Bulldog and the dog-fighting ring when he heard a knock on his door.

 

Tensing, he looked outside at the weather that no sane (or well-meaning) person would be out in. Gibbs was pretty sure that nobody who meant any good-will would be outside in this type of weather, not to mention with his luck, it was probably one of the many people he had pissed off over the years come to finish him off.

 

Shaking his head, he contemplated just letting whoever it was just do whatever they want to him, before shaking off the still lingering depression and grabbing his GI weapon and flipping off the safety, making silent steps towards the door. A dark, tall shape was behind the stained-glass window on the door, and Gibbs took a firmer hold of his gun when he could clearly see the muscled bulk of whomever it was knocked on his door again.

 

Keeping his gun out of sight, he opens the- as always- unlocked door, and peered out into the man on his lit porch.

 

The man was young, probably only twenty, twenty-one at the most, and had black hair that was plastered to his head from the rain and wide green eyes, pale skin, and looked like he was allergic to a razor, going by the scruff on his face.

 

He was indeed, very muscled, and looked very dark in his leather Jacket and dark jeans and boots, but the dark image was ruined by the way the young man hunched into himself and tried to make himself look smaller. The black-haired man’s green eyes held so much pain and guilt and a multitude of suffering that it almost knocked the breath from Gibbs’ lungs; he had seen that exact look on his own face for a long time after he lost his girls.

 

Not wanting to caught off guard less it was some sort of trick, Gibbs gruffly glared at the young man, internally wincing as the younger man flinched and hunched into himself even further.

 

“You need something?” Gibbs growled, the tone softer than usual.

 

The man grimaced and shuffled, trying not to meet his eyes. “Sorry for disturbing you, sir,” The young man said in a surprisingly high voice- Gibbs had expected a gruff growl, not unlike his own. “But my car broke down, and I can’t fix it in the rain, and my cell has no reception since all the cell and phone towers were knocked out because of the storm-” _well, there goes Rule 3_ , Gibbs mentally grumbled. “-and I was wondering if you knew any tow-trucks in the immediate area-”

 

Gibbs sighed. His gut was telling him this young man was no enemy, just a scared kid that clearly needed help. Not to mention his rambling and his wide, pain-filled green eyes reminded him way too much of a certain Italian when he first hired him, hurt by too many people and just begging to have someone that wasn’t out to hurt or betray him for once.

 

“Get in here, kid,” Gibbs sighed, putting the safety back on his gun and shoving it back in its holster. “It’s freezing out there and you’re gonna’ catch a damn cold.”

 

The kid walked in hesitantly, ducking his head as he went past Gibbs.

 

“Yes sir, thank you sir.” the kid mumbled, and Gibbs rolled his eyes; weren’t kids supposed to be less polite nowadays?

 

“You’re welcome, kid. And don’t call me sir, I work for a living.”

 

“Don’t call me kid,” he growled, mouth in a scowl. Good, Gibbs thought. The kid actually had some life that wasn’t kicked out of him.

 

“Well I don’t know your name, and I’m old enough to be your father-” Gibbs cursed himself when he saw the almost full body flinch the young man tried to hide at his words; clearly family was a trigger. He had a feeling that his family wasn’t around any longer. “-so why don’t you tell me your name, kid.”

 

“Derek.” The kid huffed. “Hale,” he added after a hesitation. Gibbs would have thought the hesitation after saying his last name meant he was lying, but something told him it was not a lie, but a protective instinct. Somehow, his last name had been a part of his hurt.

 

“Jethro Gibbs.” Gibbs returned, watching as the side of Derek’s mouth twitched at his name. He wasn’t insulted, Gibbs was far too used to people’s reactions to his name. That said, he had a feeling he should keep the fact that Leroy was his first name, and Jethro was his middle. “Call me Gibbs, Derek.” Gibbs had a feeling calling Derek by his last name would cause another flinch.

 

“Thank you, Gibbs.”

 

Walking into the living room, he pointed at the couch.

 

“Sit, and take off that jacket before you drip on all my carpet.”

 

Derek nodded, following his instructions. Gibbs caught a glimpse as the young man took off his jacket, and raised his eyebrows- the man was even more muscled underneath that leather. Was Derek a steroid guy? Or just one of those people that worked out just to look good? He had a feeling it was neither. Derek just didn’t look like that type of guy.

 

Leaving the man in the living room, he kept an ear out while he grabbed a fresh pair of comfy sweats and t-shirt, grabbing the softest hoodie he had.

 

Walking back in, he caught the man rubbing at his wet eyes, and found himself feeling sympathy for whatever Derek was going through.

 

Handing the man the clothing, he told him to get changed and come back.

 

He cooked them both a steak and baked potato, and when Derek got back, watched as Derek ate like a starving man.

 

“You know, I had a wife and daughter, once.” Gibbs had no clue why he was doing this, but something told him he needed to do _something_ to help this kid, who looked like his whole world had crumbled down around him and it was entirely his fault, even though Gibbs was sure it wasn’t.

 

“Shannon was my Wife and Kelly-” Gibbs swallowed. “Kelly was my little girl.” Gibbs could tell that Derek was listening closely, even though Gibbs wasn’t looking at him. “I met Shannon when I enlisted in the Marine’s when I shipped out for the first time. She had red hair and the most beautiful green eyes that sparkle wherever she smiled,” Gibbs chuckled, caught up in memories of his wife’s smile. “She always smiled, unless she was mad, and then she would just look at you with disappointment that made you question your life choices.

 

“She was nothing like her mother.”

 

Derek let out a surprised chuckle from beside him.

 

“We married within a year of our first date, much to her parent's displeasure, and Kelly was born a year after that. She looked just like her mum with my eyes and my mother’s smile.” taking a breath, Gibbs rubbed his eyes, forcibly holding back tears, missing his little girl more than ever.

 

“Kelly was the light of my life, always smiling, so damn smart, just like her mom. She would make friends wherever she went, and never any enemies. Kelly was such a daddy's girl. When I left for Desert Storm, Kelly begged me not to go, crying and holding on to me. Shannon, I could tell she didn’t want me to leave either, but she didn’t say anything.” taking a shuddering breath, Gibbs looked at Derek.

 

“Maybe if she did, maybe if she begged me like Kelly did, and if I found some way to stay- maybe they would still be alive.” Derek's eyes widened, sucking in a breath.

 

“Why-” Derek swallowed. “Why are you telling me this?”

 

“I blamed myself for their deaths for 13 years. Maybe if I was there she wouldn’t have seen a hit in progress, maybe she wouldn’t have tried to testify against Pedro Hernandez. Maybe I would have died with my family.”

 

Derek looked away from him, shoulders hunching.

 

“I’m telling you this because it took me a long time of running away, avoiding friendships and pushing everybody away, protecting myself and thinking I was protecting them, before realizing that it wasn’t my fault. She made her choice, and that wasn’t my fault.

 

“I have no control over the person that decided to kill them or her decision that led to her death. I’ve let people in, and I’m healing.

 

“Slowly. Whatever happened to you, Derek, whatever happened to your family that you think is your fault, It’s not. It will take awhile for you to believe it, but you will eventually. You will heal.”

 

Nodding, Derek went back to his meal, and the spent the rest of the night in silence.

 

The next morning, Derek was gone, and a note was left in his book, saying _‘Thank You.’_ along with a number.

 

The next time Gibbs saw Derek Hale’s face, it was on TV as a wanted fugitive.   

 

* * *

 


End file.
